Tag Archives: Tennessee

The Power of Dean

4 May

This week, I attended the “Power of 10” conference, an event where leaders from the ten counties that make up the Greater Nashville area get together and talk about the future.Power of Ten

It is a way to get people working together when they make decisions about where their communities are headed. It is a noble enterprise, but we cannot get towns in the same county to work together. Getting different counties to work together is almost impossible.

The room was filled with mayors, planners, members of city councils and assorted other pillars of their respective communities. I was there because I needed some training hours as a member of the planning commission. Unfortunately, I was not there on time because of work. That meant that I walked into the back of a packed house with a program that had already begun.

As I stood at the top of the stairs and scanned for an empty seat, an usher eased up to me and said that I could not stand there. No kidding. I explained that I did not intend to stand for the next four hours and was merely looking for a place to go. She brought to mind the ushers at the Ryman Auditorium. It is one of the great music halls of the world, but the ushers take their jobs way too seriously. Give someone a vest and a flashlight and they think they can rule the world. It is a power trip. I lovingly call them “Seat Nazis.”

I got away from the transfer from the Ryman and made my way to the other entrance. I did not want to crawl over anyone and was looking for an end seat. There was one left on the second row. I grew up in the Baptist church. Baptists do not sit on the second row. We hang around in the back.

I made the long trek to the bottom of the auditorium and immediately got a text saying, “It’s about time you showed up.” A friend was sitting six rows behind me. We texted for a while, but I learned a few things, too.

I missed much of the presentation that I walked in on, but the commissioner of the Tennessee Department of Transportation gave an informative presentation. He also told a few jokes.

We took a break and made our way to the concourse. There were a lot of people glad-handing and networking. I knew a few, but, for the most part, it seemed like a boring crowd. I backed up against a wall and just watched them. Finally, I decided to make my way inside and faced a tough decision. Should I go back to the seat that I hated, or should I steal someone else’s seat? I decided to be nice and go back to the second row.

This time, an elderly man sat in front of me, and he must have bathed in Brut. The smell was overwhelming. Now, I was packed into the front and lost in a fog on cologne. As people from different departments made their presentations, I was slowly dying. I looked around for any escape and immediately saw it.

The balcony had been opened. When I arrived, it was roped off. Now, there were about eight people sitting there. They were spread out with their feet propped up. The air was clean. I had to get there. Karl Dean, the mayor of Nashville, was going to speak, but I knew I could hear him just as good from the last row as I could from the second row.

Up the stairs I went with the hope that I would not get stopped by the recently transferred “Seat Nazi.” Maybe the people had snuck through, and I would be caught. I made it up the stairs and turned into the balcony. An usher was guarding the door but had his back to me. This was the moment of truth. He turned to me, and…

It was Dean, an old friend of mine. He used to work with Larry, the same guy who ordered the cheese sticks and spent a weekend with me in Cleveland, Ohio. Dean is a University of Tennessee fanatic like the rest of us, and I had not seen him in years.

Now, I had another choice. Do I listen to Karl Dean, or do I stand outside and talk with Usher Dean? It was an easy decision. I knew that I would learn a lot more from Usher Dean than some politician trying to spin his agenda. While the mayor of Nashville spoke to hundreds of people, Usher Dean and I had a great conversation in the hallway. In my mind, he knew a lot more than anyone who took the stage.

What is the Power of Dean? Well, that depends on which Dean you are talking about.

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History is Local – Tennessee Style

30 Apr

Another academic year is coming to a close, and, over the past few days, I have been reflecting upon it. Things have gone decently, but this is the first year that I have wondered if anyone is listening. As usual, there have been some engaged students and some who would probably rather be somewhere else. However, I have gotten more frustrated this time than ever before.

At our university, all students are required to take two semesters of History, and I realize that most of them are taking it because they have to take it. They are not planning on being historians, museum curators, lawyers or any other of the great professions you can get with a History degree. Still, it would be nice if they did not stare out of the windows or sneakily play with their phones. Heck, it would be even nice if some of them brought paper and pencil to class.

Honestly, it gets frustrating. I may not get them to love the subject, but I want them to get something out of it. To accomplish this, I sprinkle some local history in with the American history. They may not be interested in the millworks of New England, but they may be interested in the millworks of our town. Simply, not all history takes place far away. Some of it takes place right around the corner in places they pass everyday.

That is why I throw as much Tennessee history into the mix as I can. This might perk them up, and it might help them realize that this state has played an important role in our nation’s past.Tennessee Flag

We cover the three Tennessee presidents – Andrew Jackson, James K. Polk and Andrew Johnson – because presidents are important. Did you know that Polk is the president that brought California into the United States? Yep, a guy from Columbia, Tennessee did that.

However, I like to go deeper than that and talk about people who they may have never heard of.

Peter Burnett, a Tennessee native, was the first governor of California.

Grantland Rice, perhaps the greatest sportswriter to sit behind a typewriter, was from Murfreesboro. He wrote about the Four Horsemen of Notre Dame and a line that goes like this:

For when the One Great Scorer comes

To mark against your name,

He writes – not that you won or lost –

But how you played the game.

Cordell Hull, a graduate of Cumberland University (where I work), was known as the “Father of the United Nations” and won a Nobel Peace Prize for his work on that organization.

David Crockett, defender of the Alamo and hero to millions of kids in the 1950s, was a Tennessean.

Sam Houston, who led the rebel forces in the fight for Texas independence, had his first law office here in Lebanon.

W.E.B. DuBois graduated from Fisk University and taught school in Wilson County before going on to create the NAACP.

George Rappelyea thought of a publicity stunt to draw attention to his town of Dayton. They arrested John Scopes for teaching the theory of evolution and hosted the Scopes Monkey Trial, one of the many “Trials of the Century.” It sparked a debate that continues to this day.

John Butler, the legislator who sponsored the anti-evolution bill, represented the neighboring counties of Sumner, Trousdale and Macon.

Oak Ridge is a small town that came to prominence as one of the sites of the Manhattan Project, which brought us into the atomic age.

In 1920, legislative leaders met at the Hermitage Hotel to discuss voting for or against the 19th Amendment. It is a long story, but they eventually approved it. That made Tennessee the decisive state in women getting the right to vote.

John Chisum was born in Tennessee but gained notoriety as the “King of the Pecos”, one of the most successful cattlemen in the West.

I could name others, but these are a few that I can think of. I really think mentioning local people helps students learn a little more about American history. At least, I hope it does.

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Scenes From a Cattle Sale

29 Apr

My dad grew up on a dairy farm, and he has always liked having cattle around. In fact, they have been around for as long as I can remember. For years, he has owned Angus, a breed that can be traced back to Scotland. The are black cattle that have become the staple of the beef industry.

For many of those years, my dad had several head but was not that serious about it. Then, he and a partner started the Horn Springs Angus Farm. With hard work and a lot of investment, this became not only one of the top herds in Tennessee but also one of the top herds in the nation. HSAF cattle have won some of the biggest shows and have been praised for the quality of their offspring.

You see, the animals are not for slaughter. They are show cattle that are used to enhance the breed. In 2000, my dad and his partner decided to hold an annual production sale. Although my dad is not as involved as he used to be, he still hosts the sale on his land, and cow people come from all over to buy. This year, there were folks from as far away as Montana and Canada.

This past Sunday marked another day of auctioning cattle, and I thought it would be interesting to chronicle the scene on this blog. I took photos with my iPhone, which my wife and stepdaughter claim I am not very good at doing. I do not know if the pictures are of good quality, but you may find them interesting.

When people arrive, the first thing they want to do is check out the cattle that are going up for auction.

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Of course, there is more than one way to look at a cow.

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These guys look serious about it.

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You may have noticed some people sitting at tables. The sale is almost as famous for its lunch as it is for the cattle. This year, they had barbecue (beef, of course), barbecued bologna (baloney in these parts), brisket, baked beans, cole slaw, and some of the best pecan pie you will ever eat. The only thing missing was vanilla ice cream to put on the pie.image-6

People get in line as fast as possible to get to the vittles. In this picture, my wife and stepdaughter are making their way through.image-8

Once the plate is piled, it is time to eat.

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Of course, the whole point is to buy and sell cattle, and that takes place in this ring.

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The barn sits empty while people browse and eat, but, when it is auction time, people get ready for business.

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Introductions are made. Cattle are brought in. The auctioneer starts talking. The ring men start taking bids. The beginning of the auction is actually pretty exciting.

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However, important work is also going on behind the scenes as people are getting the cattle lined up to go in the ring. There cannot be a delay in the action.

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Here is another view of the ring as cattle are being sold.

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Eventually, the cattle are loaded onto trailers and taken to places throughout the United States and Canada.

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Anyway, I hope you have enjoyed a few scenes from a cattle sale.

 

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The County of Wilson

25 Apr

A new bridge is being built across the Cumberland River, and, the other day, I drove across it for the first time. I guess that means I drove across it twice. First, I went over it. Then, I came back. It was that return trip that I noticed our county seal displayed prominently.

This took me by surprise because I have lived in Wilson County all of my life and had never seen it. Heck, I did not even know it existed. However, that was not the only thing that surprised me. It did not look like a typical seal.County Seal

Most seals that I have seen have symbols that represent the area. There may be some sort of plant that grows in the area. There may be a farmer. There may be some representation of industry. The Wilson County seal looks like something you would see at the post office. The bald eagle is patriotic, but I have not seen many bald eagles around here lately.

It made me think that this must be a more recent creation. The seals with crops, farmers and industry are from a time long past. This one looks more modern. With this on my mind, I called the Wilson County Archives to find out when this seal came into being. They had no idea but agreed that it must come from more recent times.

Anyway, I am on a mission to find out when the Wilson County seal was created and why it does not represent anything special about the area. It is American, but it is not Wilsonian.

That brings me to something that has bugged me for a long time. Why is Wilson County named Wilson? I know why our city is named Lebanon. The settlers saw all of the cedar trees and thought of the Cedars of Lebanon in the Bible. Unfortunately, they are not cedars. They are junipers.

Here is something else. Lebanon, Oregon is named after Lebanon, Tennessee. Some guy from here hopped on the Oregon Trail and named his new town after his old one. That means there is a city in Oregon named for a city in Tennessee that is named after the wrong kind of tree.

Now, back to Wilson. The county is named for Major David Wilson, a prominent man who lived in Sumner County. That is the county that sits on the other side of the new bridge. He was born around Charlotte, North Carolina and fought in the American Revolution. He settled in these parts, which was the western part of North Carolina, and involved himself in many activities of a landed gentleman. Politician, surveyor and other jobs that do not require strenuous labor.

I am sure he was a great man. Wilson County was named in his honor in 1799, a few years before his death. However, I am wondering something. Did he ever make his way across the river and into the land that would bear his name? Did he own property here? Did he help create the new county? What role did this man play in our county’s history?

It is like the seal that really does not represent anything about Wilson County. Did the man who it is named after represent the county?

I guess it does not matter, but it still makes me wonder.

 

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Finding Out About the Ade Family Mystery

19 Mar

I was hanging out by the magazine stand in Walgreen’s when a title caught my eye. The Greatest Unsolved Mysteries of All Time: 50 Baffling Cases from the Files. It struck me that this would fit nicely as the latest edition to the “Listeria” series. It was a grand plan. I would see how many of these mysteries have taken place in my lifetime. Of course, a synopsis of each one would be included.

Then, everything changed. I was glancing through the mysteries when the pages turned to a segment called “Who Wiped Out the Ade Family?” That was new. I had never heard of the Ade family. However, the first sentence got my attention because it said the crime was committed in Nashville. One of the great unsolved mysteries of all time happened a few miles down the road, and I had never heard of it.

Honestly, I thought I knew about most of the infamous crimes that took place around here. I have read as much as possible about the murder of Stringbean, a performer on the Grand Ole Opry, and his wife. For years, people around here wanted to know who killed Marcia Trimble, who was killed while delivering Girl Scout cookies. I even know a little about the Harpe brothers, who some think were a couple of the earliest serial killers in America.

However, I had never heard of the Ade family. I read the article and immediately went to Google to find out more. There was not much. The article had as much information as the other sources. In fact, some of it used the same language. I guess when you cannot find much, then you go with what you can.

The murders took place in Joelton, a community in Davidson County. A neighborhood saw fire in the distance and made his way to the Ade residence. The entire family and a guest were inside and consumed by the fire. When authorities investigated, they realized that the family had been killed, and the fire was set to cover it up.

The mystery of who did it has continues until now. Considering that it took place in 1897, the cold case will remain that way.

There is nothing for me to add to the mystery. I am writing about it because, as far as I know, the family has been forgotten. I understand that the crime will never be solved, but more people who live in this area should know that the crime took place. They should know that one of the great mysteries of the world took place in Nashville, and no one has delved into it enough to fill up a decent Wikipedia page.

The victims were:

Jacob Ade, 60

Pauline Ade, 50

Lizze Ade, 20

Henry Ade, 13

Rosa Moirer, 10

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Kingsport, Tennessee

17 Feb

One of the people I follow on Twitter mentioned that his hometown is Kingsport, Tennessee, a city that was the site of a major event in my family’s history.

The summer of 1991 was going along like any other. I was spending my summer break working on the loading dock at my dad’s business. My brother was running the manufacturing side of the business. My mom was handling things around the house. My dad, who we all leaned on, was overseeing it all. Then, the situation changed.

My dad drove to Kingsport for a meeting of a bank board of which he was a member, while we went through a typical day. Work was long and hot, and I was glad to get home to take a shower. I was in my closet getting dressed when I heard the phone ring, and I was still in my closet when my mom told me the news. My dad had a stroke after his meeting and was being taken to Holston Valley Medical Center.

After that moment, my memories become hazy. I finished getting dressed while my mom called my brother. At some point, we were all together with my grandparents waiting for a call from the doctor. We were under the impression that it had not been a serious stroke, but that impression vanished when the doctor explained that we needed to get there as fast as possible.

I cannot remember anyone talking on the drive to Kingsport, and it is not a short drive. I sat in the backseat as my brother drove. It AC was cranked up, but no one mentioned changing it. I stared out the window and remember thinking that we were going through downtown Knoxville pretty fast.

We arrived at the hospital and took the elevator to the Intensive Care Unit. That is when the gravity of the situation became apparent. All of the bank board members were lining the hallway in the suits. It was the most somber looking group I had ever seen. One of them took us to the ICU desk, and the nurse immediately got the doctor.

It was a conversation that I will never forget. My dad would probably die within the next three days. If he did not die, then he would remain in a vegetated state. Before going in to see him, the doctor explained that they were going to freeze his brain to stop the bleeding. If that did not stop the bleeding, then there was no chance.

My dad was hooked up to every machine imaginable. Wires. Tubes. It was as if the machines were keeping him alive. We talked to him without knowing if he could hear us or not. When we left, there was no plan. We had nowhere to stay and nowhere to go. My mom and I tried to stay in the hotel room that my dad had booked, but she could not stay there. That is when we were given a room in the family area of the hospital. The bed was terrible, but it did not matter. None of us could have slept.

That began our two weeks in Kingsport, Tennessee while my dad fought for his life. Most of that time was spent in the ICU waiting room with other families who were facing similar circumstances. In the days before cellphones, people could only call us at phone in the room. It was constantly ringing. Businesspeople. Politicians. From all over the country, people were calling. It got to the point where other families were mad because we were tying up the phone line. That is when we started taking calls at the nurse’s desk.

I can remember being hungry all of the time. There was a hotdog stand outside, and I ate more hotdogs than I could count. When the going gets tough, I eat. I can remember my mom promising God that she would never get mad at my dad again if he came out of this. We laughed and said that she should not lie to God during a time like this. I can remember my brother going back to work because somebody had to run the business. Our competitors were already lurking around our customers.

A lot of people made the long drive to visit us. My grandparents came up. My friend Chris came up with his new wife. My friends Robert and Dallus came up. I think they got lost on the way. I feel bad because after that long drive I wanted them to ride me around town. I wanted out of the hospital. We found an abandoned bridge, and I just sat on it for a while.

We also got a visit from Sister Stafford, a pastor and missionary from our town. My mom asked if she had driven all that way by herself. Sister Stafford replied, “No, God came with me, but God didn’t tell me how far it was.” She brought food and showed my mom how to bless him. She took my mom’s hands and told her what to say. By this time, my dad’s brain had stopped bleeding, and he was out of ICU. When my mom went to his room, she did as she was told. She laid hands on him and said the words. He looked at her like she was crazy.

After that, my dad starting getting better, and the doctor scheduled a transfer to Vanderbilt Hospital for further care and rehabilitation. Our time in Kingsport ended, but my dad was just beginning a long journey. He did not die, and he did not stay in a vegetative state. Through years of rehab, he learned to walk and do things with his left hand. His right side is paralyzed, and his speech is affected. However, everything else is great.

Since 1991, he has seen my brother have two sons. He has seen me get married. He has traveled throughout the country. He has become a member of another bank board. He was there when the University of Tennessee won the national championship in football. He has been inducted into the Tennessee Softball Hall of Fame.

My dad with his sons and grandsons at the Little Big Horn Battlefield

My dad with his sons and grandsons at the Little Big Horn Battlefield

Since 1991, he has overseen the sale of the business that he started. He saw his sister pass away from a stroke. He saw his in-laws, who spent a lot of time in Kingsport, both pass away.

Since 1991, my dad has seen happiness and sadness. However, the important thing is that he was there to see it. That is because of the hard work that he, my mom, the doctors and the rehab specialists put in. It is also because of the work that the people at Holston Valley Medical Center did for those first two weeks. That time was critical.

There is one more thing that my dad has seen. When he was able, my parents went back to Holston Valley to see the people who took care of him. He walked through ICU and hugged them all.

None of us will ever forget our two weeks in Kingsport, Tennessee.

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A Lebanon Institution – Snow White Drive-In

8 Feb

Today, I had lunch at a local institution – Snow White Drive-In.Snow White

Being by myself, I made my way to the lunch counter. On the way, I talked to a few people who I know. I also scanned the grease board that lists the meat and three selections. There were also some homemade pies to check on. However, I already knew what I was going to get. It has been my favorite thing at Snow White since I was a kid. Other people can have their pinto beans and barbecue. They can also have their milkshakes and banana splits. I will take the long chili dog and french fries every time.Chili Dog

As I sat at the counter and ate my chili dog, I began to think about the place in which I was sitting. Snow White Drive-In opened in the 1950s and has seen a lot of changes through the years.

In the beginning, it sat on the outskirts of town on the two lane highway from Lebanon to Nashville. It was probably a destination for the people who lived in town and was definitely a place where teenagers could hang out without being under the watchful eyes of their parents.

Now, Snow White is in the city limits. There are neighborhoods all around it, and a Publix sits across the street. There is also a Taco Bell just down the road.

Snow White has seen a lot of changes, but it has also seen a lot of challenges. Taco Bell sits on the site where another drive-in used to be. I would imagine the competition was fierce between the two businesses, and only one could make it.

When I was a kid, the owner of Snow White was robbed and murdered behind the restaurant. It was a shocking crime, but the business survived as other owners took over.

Snow White has also seen chain restaurants come to town and provide competition. I will not list them all because they are the ones that are in every town. However, a few are close enough to Snow White to be seen.

There was a time when Snow White closed, but other owners knew how important it was to the fabric of our town and reopened it. Now, it stays busy all of the time. It has also doubled as a setting for music videos and movies. Through all of the changes and challenges, Snow White Drive-In has survived as a small bit of Americana.

However, that could be about to change. A few weeks ago, the newspaper reported that the landowner is working on a deal to bring another business to the location. The report did not say what that business was going to be, but I have heard that it is going to be a convenience store, which we already have a million of.

The article quoted the owner of the property, and he went on and on about how he loves Snow White as much as everyone else. In fact, he promised that the restaurant would still have a place on the property in a new building. After all, it is the food that makes the place successful.

I am not sure about that. People can get the same food at a bunch of places. I think it is the building that makes Snow White Drive-In different. People can walk into a place that has been around since the 1950s and imagine a different time. They can feel the nostalgia in the air.

I think eating in a place that people have been going to for six decades is cool. However, I have no illusions that I am experiencing the “good old days”. As a historian, I do not really believe there was a “good old days”. I believe that people were eating in this building when they heard about that John F. Kennedy was assassinated. I believe that those people were white because of segregation. I believe that some people were there the night man landed on the moon. I believe some people were there when they first heard Elvis on the jukebox.

Snow White is like other historical places. Its existence connects us with the past, both the good and bad parts of it. That is why I have taken history students there to eat. It gives them an idea of how things may have been.

I do not fault the landowner for getting value out of his land. Heck, I also develop land and own the property directly behind Snow White. I just feel that he is wrong when he says that Snow White will be the same in a new building. It will be a restaurant just like all of the rest. The food will be good, but the history will be gone.

Something else will be gone. Snow White Drive-In is a part of the fabric of Lebanon. When it goes away, a small thread of the town’s history will go with it.

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Cancun – Descending Into the Polar Vortex

17 Jan

While in Cancun, we kept hearing about the Polar Vortex, this huge weather system that was bringing frigid temperatures into Tennessee and everywhere else. First, I wondered where the term Polar Vortex come from? Do meteorologists sit around and come up with sinister sounding names for weather systems. In the old days, I thought it was an Arctic Blast. Second, we knew that at some point we were going to have to go home, and that meant going from the 80 degree average of Cancun to something completely different.

We woke up bright and early on the day of our leaving and prepared to make the trip to the airport. We dressed as we had dressed each day because we did not take any coats. My wife said that we wouldn’t need coats in Cancun. Unfortunately, we would need them in Tennessee. Luckily, I packed a pair of long pants to wear.

We took the ride to the airport and got dropped off into chaos. There was a huge crowd of people trying to check in. It was made up of people like us who were scheduled to leave that day, but it was also made up of people who were supposed to leave earlier and were trapped by cancelled flights. We talked to some people from Boston who had been trying to get home for a couple of days. This Polar Vortex thing was so powerful that it cancelled flights in Mexico.

We must have hit the sweet spot because our flight was on time. That gave us a chance to study the airport. There was basically a duty-free mall. There was a Johnny Rocket’s. There was also some dude dressed up like the Mask. Put together, it was kind of surreal.

We flew out of Cancun and made it to Charlotte. There we had to go through the hassle that is customs. Apparently, the United States does not trust the capabilities of other nations. We had to get our bags and have them rescanned. Once that was done, we made our way into the terminal. It was chaos all over again. Flights were cancelled. People were huddled in corners. Those who were coming in on delayed flights were barely missing their connections.

Once again, we were lucky. Our flight to Nashville was only 30 minutes late. However, the way people were dressed gave us an idea of what was happening outside. Heavy coats and hats were the norm. In fact, we stood out with our short-sleeved shirts.

The flight to Nashville was a little rough, and my window seat offered a glimpse of what we were descending into. As we got closer to the ground, the area just looked cold. Hardly any cars were out. The sides of the roads were white with ice. I can’t describe what cold looks like, but I know it when I see it.

Walking through the terminal, our summer clothes were looking really strange. However, we planned ahead. The guy picking us up brought heavy coats for us to put on. Despite those coats, walking outside took our breath away. The last time we were outside it was 80 degrees. Suddenly, we were hitting air that was 6 degrees. As we walked to the car, I tried to keep warm by thinking of this.Cancun - Poolside

And this.Cancun - Volleyball

And this.Cancun 216

Despite the temperature, we were glad to be home. One thing we all agree on is that it is good to travel, but it is also good to return home. It was also good that my mom had made up a big pot of soup.

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Total Chaos

30 Dec

Over at Cole Mining, you can read an interesting piece about time. It is a well written post about time and its many facets. It is thought-provoking and worth your time. Yes, I went ahead and said that. When I read it, many things went through my mind. The concept of time. How time seems to go faster as we get older. Time is a fascinating concept. However, I kept coming back to another thought. This may not be what Cole wanted to inspire when he wrote his post, but I thank him for placing this into my mind.

There used to be a theme park in Nashville called Opryland, USA that provided many days of fun for me and everyone I know. I won’t go into a lot of detail about Opryland because it has been written about many times. Instead, I am going to write about a ride called Chaos, an indoor roller coaster that was Tennessee’s answer to Space Mountain.Chaos

It was a cool ride, and, when it first opened, people were lined up for hours to get on it. Once the line entered the building, warning signs could be seen everywhere, and an announcement played over and over.

“You’re time is running out!”

Apparently, we were in a place that was about to be destroyed, and we were waiting to board the vehicle that would take us to safety. As we stood in line, the announcement continued.

“You’re time is running out!”

Finally, we got on the ride and put on our 3-D glasses. Yep, it was a 3-D roller coaster. As the ride zoomed through the darkness, laser beams shot through the air, and the glasses made it look like they were all over the place. Of course, the ride didn’t last near as long as the waiting process. Despite that, Chaos was a good ride.

At least, it was a good ride for as long as it worked. Not long after the introduction of Chaos, the laser beams broke and were never repaired. Rumor was that the company that built the roller coaster went out of business, and repairing it was impossible. Without the laser beams, Chaos was just a ride through the dark. They tried several ways to make it a good experience, but it was never the same.

Soon after, Opryland USA closed. There were plenty of great rides and entertainment, but I have always thought that the failure of Chaos led to the failure of the park. It had to hurt to spend millions of dollars on a ride that couldn’t be fixed.

As I think back, the announcement is what sticks in my mind about Chaos.

“Your time is running out!”

As it turns out, that announcement was prophetic. Our time of enjoying Opryland was truly running out.

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From Sports Illustrated to The Old Farmer’s Almanac

24 Dec

This is another one of those nights when I don’t have anything to write about. I thought about an expose on Duck Dynasty and the dangers of turning a real person into a television character, but I have heard enough about that topic. All I know is that I don’t agree with the opinions of most of the people around me.

Last night, my mind was running crazy with ideas to blog about. There was this movie character that I was going to compare to a person in my town. Then, I remembered how many people in my town read the blog. I also thought about writing about our dinner at a local establishment. In fact, that could be a future one.

Heck, I even thought about listing a bunch of stuff that I like. One day, I was driving down the road when I came upon a bridge. Out of the blue, I said, “I like bridges.” The lady who was with me said that I sounded like Forrest Gump. It’s true. I like bridges. That’s just the way it is.

As I sat down at the computer, I considered writing about the emails that we get from students when the semester is over, but I have already written about that. It’s usually over by down, but I am still getting emails about grades on Christmas Eve.

Of course, I could write about my current treadmill book. It is Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy. No Country for Old Men and The Road have already been scratched off my McCarthy list. They were both made into great movies, and I think this one would make a great movie, too. It would be one of the bloodiest and most realistic Westerns ever made. I am proud to say that McCarthy is a Tennessee guy.

Those are all things that could be written about, but I’m not going to do any of those. Instead, I am going to list some of the things that are on my desk.

There is the latest copy of Sports Illustrated.Sports Illustrated

Next to it is a box of dry erase markers.

A gift card to Bed Bath and Beyond is underneath there somewhere.

My grade book is out for those emails that I have been getting.

There is even a couple of VHS tapes.

There is a tape measure sitting on top of a book called John Henry: The Doc Holliday Story. It was written by Ben Traywick, native of Watertown, Tennessee and official historian of Tombstone, Arizona.

Sunglasses and a stapler are butted up against each other.

Beside them are a couple of lottery tickets that didn’t pay off.

My trusty iPhone is next to my trusty calculator. I know. The phone has a calculator, too. I don’t care because I like the old-fashioned kind.

There is a stack of bills and a newspaper clipping from the Civil War.

A little further away sits the 2014 issue of The Old Farmer’s Almanac.Almanac

If you want to get smarter, then you need to pick up a copy. It’s full of all kinds of great information. For example, November 25, my birthday, is one of the best days to set posts or pour concrete.

That’s the stuff that’s on my desk, and that’s also the reason my wife keeps telling me that I need to clean it.

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